


Nightengales

by TheBaronsVeve



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Lady Loki, Loki's Kids!, M/M, Part of Series, abused Tony, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:39:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBaronsVeve/pseuds/TheBaronsVeve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki did not know how, but his little king was in Asgard. It had been 32 Midgardian years since he'd seen his little king and had once thought him dead. What might have brought his Anthony to Asgard? And would Anthony remember meeting the god when he was but a child? Marvel owns all, I own nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sins of the Father

-Asgard-

For the first time in his millennia, Loki the Liesmith was desperate. Desperate enough that he would have dropped to his knees and begged if he had thought the effort would be met with any success. He knew in his heart that it would not.

"Please, Allfather, he is a child! You would not leave him beneath us to spend the rest of his days as but a prisoner of Asgard?"

He had not been able to keep the shaking from his voice when he had brought the words forth. The Allfather, once his own father, had simply shaken his head, a sad gesture that should have been sympathetic but seemed far more contrived than anything.

"It is done, Loki. The oracles have spoken and I will not risk such a danger."

When Odin had been told of his coming fate during Ragnarock, his body torn asunder by the great wolf, he had made a swift decision. When Odin's guards had brought out the chains Loki had demanded that Odin listen to reason. He had spoken words that no man had ever dared speak to the Allfather. At least, no man that had ever lived. When he had been forced to his knees, his garments stripped from him, and his flesh whipped raw he had kept his eyes on Odin. He could feel the agreement of the court more than he could hear. It felt as though a veritable wave of coldness had washed over him the moment the leather had torn through pale skin. When the pain had become too great, he had shifted his eyes to meet pale green. The eyes he'd met instantly softened as they met Loki's gaze. They were not devoid of horror as the nine-tails was raised and brought down in succession until the gold-flecked tile had been spattered with blood. And when the guards had lifted Loki to his feet and began to drag him to the darkest pits of the palace reserved only for Asgard's greatest enemies those eyes had disappeared into the crowd of onlookers congregated in the throne room. They met him once more through the metal bars and hands reached across the barrier, clasping Loki's tightly.  
"Fenrir has gone. He would not allow the guards to chain him and fled…Heimdall was unprepared…he has fled to Midgard…"  
Loki had visibly shuttered at that, tightening his grip on the other man's hands.  
"Midgard! He will surely be killed!"  
The heavy metal doors barring Loki's freedom had been instantly unlatched and thrown open. The open doors had revealed a blond man with smiling eyes awaiting Loki's escape.

Throughout all, Fandral had been the only aspect of Loki's life that had been stable, consistent and unquestionably loyal.

In his hands he held a tied sack and when Loki had stepped from the cell it had been handed to him.  
"You will find him, Loki."  
Loki was led from the cell by the guards who the man had charmed into coercion and they had made their way undetected to the Bifrost. The man at his side had quickly disarmed Heimdall and thieved Hodur from his grasp. He thrust it into it's holding and the Bifrost sparked to life. Loki had spared him a glance and had taken him into an embrace that would likely be their last.  
"You know what must be done if I do not return."  
The man had broken the embrace and given a swift nod.  
"But you shall return."  
Loki had not been so sure but had nodded in reply. He had turned, stepping to the edge of the portals heavy embrace.  
"Until I return..be safe, my warrior."  
There had been no mistaking the emotion that had been quickly quelled on the mans face as he had crossed his arm over his own chest.  
"And you, my Liesmith."  
The portal had taken him in, sending him hurling to the mid-realm in a flight of dizzying spins.

-Midgard-

Loki stood to his feet, slowly, shaking off the residual dizziness that followed inter-realm travel and began past the thick patches of oak and fir, searching for signs of life beyond the line of trees that designated the beginning of the forest. His feet crunched along freshly fallen leaves, an there was an unmistakable scent in the air of spice of yet another sign of a chillier season on Midgard. The chill brought awareness to his blood stained back that had caused his armor to stick to his skin. It was most unpleasant. His exceptional vision lent him the image of smoke billowing in the distance so he fought his way through the trees, making a bit of a path as he continued searching for any life that could be commanded to give him rest.

As he blasted the branches and other Midgardian vegetation out of his path, his right hand wrapped in a crackling green haze, he seethed at the occurrences of the last 24 hours.

Fenrir had been harmless, in fact, he had been beloved of the gods, up until that wretched oracle had waggled her lying tongue.

Being the Liesmith, he was obviously able to live up to his own namesake while simultaneously possessing the ability to single out those who were false about…well, being false. The hag knew nothing. She was, like countless others, a fool desperate for glory, even if it was the glory of a false prophet.

And his father…

His father was even greater a fool for lapping up her words as he did.

Loki didn't know why even now, he referred to the fraudulent old wretch as his father.

Was he still, after all these years, so desperate for a parent that he chose to acknowledge Odin as such? Even after the lie his entire life had been curled around had been revealed to him?

A noise that could only be described as a snarl curled Loki's lip up in a rage.

Odin had taken Loki's son from him. His wolf. Fenrir. And now he found himself, clawing his way through the wilderness of this planet of inferior beings. Cattle really, meant to be herded and ultimately serve whatever purpose that was intended for them by their superiors.  
Loki had been to Midgard many a time. His fool brother, whom he'd once admired so ardently, had once had the notion to come down and dwell among those who worshipped him. Even going as far as to lead their fallible, mortal armies into battle.

To their deaths. So fascinating how the simple creatures could even find it in them to try to make something of the miniscule lifespan they were given.

Loki had not protested at the time. Back then, everything that Thor did had been sacred, unquestionable. It remained that way still on Asgard. But Loki had turned from the ways of Asgard long ago.

He blasted one small tree out of the way, sending it spinning violently through the crisp air before it fell to the ground of an open clearing.

Loki surveyed the field, spattered with fiery hues of the harvest beneath the golden autumnal sky. On the opposite end of the clearing sat a formidable sized house, in truth, more a mansion.

A faint line of smoke rose from a brick chimney.

A far cry from his accomodations on Asgard. But he did not intend on spending the night lying in Midgardian soil like some sort of feral animal.

He was a god, no matter where he was, and these mortals would pay him his dues and give up the house to him for as long as he required it.

He hadn't taken five steps towards the building, when he felt an object connect rather deliberately with his shin.

Being a god, he couldn't quite have labelled the sensation as pain, but it startled him nonetheless. He looked in the direction of where the blow had come from and saw a boy.

He was a tiny thing, his head wouldn't even have come up to Loki's waist.

Dark brown hair, with a slight curl to it, covered his head, a few of said curls hanging in his wide brown eyes that were presently narrowed into the most fearsome glare a toddler could muster, some sort of small club held tightly in his little hands.

Once Loki had registered the situation, the alarm faded to be replaced by anger.

"You dare lift a hand against me, mortal child?" he didn't raise his voice. He knew his cold, silky tones to be equally as, if not more terrifying than a raised voice.

The boy's small nose scrunched up in a scowl, and he gripped the club more tightly, ready to strike again if need be.

Loki moved closer, his immense stature accomplishing what his words did not need to.

"I asked you a question, boy."

The child's features formed into what looked suspiciously like a smirk.

"I didn't touch you. My bat did."

Loki's fist clenched.

"Wha- …That is of no consequence. Are you aware of who I am?"

The child looked up at him, round, dark eyes betraying an intelligence that was not exactly signature to one so young.

"No…and I don't care. You're standing on Loki's grave!"

Loki couldn't have been more baffled if Odin had have showed up with Fenrir on a leash, a written apology and a tray of lemon squares.

"I…what?" he was displeased by the confusion in his own voice. It made him sound…human.

The impertinent little thing had resumed his glaring up at the god, his lower lip protruding in what appeared to be a slight pout.

"Loki's grave! We buried him today…you're standing on it. Now get off!"

Loki was so baffled by the boy's words, that he actually took a couple of steps back and glanced down at the fresh mound of overturned earth that the boy was jabbing his small fingers towards.

"You…buried…Loki." was all he could manage to say.

The boy's hostility seemed to ebb, but only somewhat. His tiny fists remained clenched around the handle of what he'd previously called a bat.

"He was…my dog." The little boy's eyes were suddenly far away, and had taken on a glassy appearance.

Oh gods… Loki rolled his emerald eyes. He'd lost his son, his closest friend, and his social standing in Asgard all in the span of a day. Now he was standing in the backyard of a peasant asking an insolent child who he'd rather beat with his own bat, questions about his deceased pet. Who he just happened to share a common name with. Loki glowered. "It matters not why you attacked me, the fact remains that you did. Now if you wish to avoid punishment of a most severe caste, you will direct me to the owner of that house." Loki pointed a tapered finger in the direction of the house. The boy's eyes widened and before Loki could register, he swung the bat again, catching the god square in the stomach. This time, it was more than annoyance that Loki felt. With a rather undignified grunt, he doubled over on impact, but seconds later reached out and grasped the boy before he could turn and scamper away.  
The child struggled as he was slung over a leather clad shoulder whilst kicking and swinging the bat wildly and aimlessly. Loki reached up an arm and seized the thing wrenching it from his protesting hands and made his way closer to the house, the thrashing boy still tight in his clutches.

He dumped the child unceremoniously in a heap just outside the front of the door of the house. He clambered to his feet and the scowl returned to occupy his features.

"Now then. You will go to the owner of this building and you will make arrangements for me to stay…for as long as I desire." Loki began in a languid tone that nonetheless left no room for an argument.

"No. You're a stranger. And Gramma says I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers."

The tone with which he spoke the statement was delivered with an uncooperative, mocking edge rather than the unsuspecting naivety that would more befit one so young. It made Loki's jaw clench in anger.

"You will comply with my demands, human child or as I said-"

"There are commercials that come on the TV all the time about creeps like you." He continued informatively. "So if you have a bag of candy or a puppy under your coat, don't even try…my Gramma's a block parent."

Loki was ready to end the small wretch's short existence.

"I don't care what your peasant grandmother is…she will be made to surrender her house."

"This isn't her house, it's mine."

Loki narrows blazing emerald eyes. "The same applies to you then."

The child paid no mind to the demand, but instead eyed the statuesque god with a keen curiosity. His inquisitiveness seemed partly childish, and partly…analytic.

"Are you a homeless man?"

It was extremely rare that anyone conversing with the silvertongue would have the advantage of him conversationally, especially this early in, but here he was, rendered mute by this Midgardian child.

"Praytell, what-"

"Gramma says its rude to say 'Hobo', so I don't."

Loki narrowed his eyes in irritation.

"Interrupt me once more, child, and you will sorely wish you hadn't."

A look of fear and caution flits across the boy's face momentarily, but his expression soon relaxes once more.

"If you were gonna hurt me…you would've already done it." He says decidedly.

Loki took a threatening step towards the boy, who despite his conclusion, stumbled back rather hastily.

Loki gave a rather abrasive laugh at the boy's frightened antics.

"Not so bold with your words, now are you, young one? You know I could give you a reason to go mewling back to your vagabond grandmother."

The boy's young concept of pride seemed wounded at that.

"You'd better go back into the woods before anyone else sees you in that stupid costume."

With a sound somewhat resemblant of a growl, Loki gripped the young boy firmly by the back of the neck and spun him around to face the door.

"I will leave you to the punishment fit for Midagrdian imps like yourself." he declared bringing a fist against the door in an impatient rap.  
Tony had not left his grasp, raised just above where his feet could touch the ground.  
At this, the little boy's large dark eyes got even larger. Was his father home yet? He prayed to whatever god was listening that he wasn't. He twisted and thrashed in the man's grip, trying to free himself but also trying to meet his eyes with a pleading gaze  
" Please, mister...please don't tell my dad..."  
Loki did not have time for his pleas. He moved again to bang harshly on the door. He wanted to deposit this little human so he could continue his search and possibly find some rest. Tony waited with baited breath, his heartbeat slowing down at the gradual non-response from inside.  
So his parents weren't home yet.  
He breathed a sigh of relief then turned a bit of a disrespectful grin on the man holding him.  
"Looks like I'm not gonna get in trouble after all..."  
A howl comes from the wooded area beyond and Loki promptly dropped the boy harshly on the wooden porch and scanned the horizon. His mind reached beyond the trees, probing the area for his sons mind but found nothing. He inwardly cursed and promptly threw open the door to the home. His quick working magick unlatched the doors and destroyed the security systems Howard had built in one fell swoop. He hurled Tony into the house, the boy hitting the tile with a harsh crack.  
Tony yelped as he connected rather painfully with the floor. Now he was scared. If this stranger wasn't going to hurt him, then surely his father would at the discovery of his destroyed alarm systems. Tony's lower lip trembled as he looks up at the fearsome man looming over him. Loki would normally relish in the look of fear that crossed Tony's face but he was in too much of a panic to notice. He pushed past Tony and made his way down the hallway, poking his head into each room as he passed. He needed a basin, some warm water, and preferably some warmer attire.  
And he needed to be rid of the tiny shadow behind him.  
Tony despite his sore tailbone, clambered to his feet and scampered after Loki following him from room to room, surveying him with keen curiosity.  
"You know you can be arrested for this..."

Loki scowled at the boy and stops mid search.  
" I do not know what this means but let me assure you it is no threat to me." He spoke swiftly as he went back to searching.  
He finally came upon the kitchen, packed full with the latest and greatest technology, ever a testament to the wealth and innovation of the Stark family. He popped open the cupboards, hurling things onto the floor, hands thumbing through baking sheets and bowls and knives until he finally came across a large salad bowl.  
He pulled the silver thing out and inspected it. It would do. He then stared at the sink with trepidation. He was not entirely sure how to obtain water from the contraption.  
Suddenly, small fists grabbed the material of Loki's leathers and pulled hard.  
"You can't just bust in here and take our stuff!" he exclaimed. His hands moved to bat at Loki, wherever he could get a hit in.  
Loki snatched the boy around the throat and lifted him high above the ground. He eyed the little thing, struggling against his strength and smirked.  
"I do what I want. " His tone was light, but menacing nonetheless.  
He, again, dropped Tony to the tile below. There was a sudden clinking of keys in the door and Loki rolled his eyes.  
How joyous...another human.  
He pitched the salad bowl onto the floor, cracking the tile with the force, and pulled Tony up by the collar of his winter coat.  
Tony's eyes widen in fear. He couldn't face his father. Couldn't take another beating. Not today. Not after he'd just buried his dog. The door swung open to reveal a woman who looks to be in her fifties. She eyed the scene before her with sharp, intelligent, dark eyes, but not without concern as they traveled from Loki to the child he grasped.  
"Please sir...I have money. Whatever you want is yours, just let my boy go..." she pleaded within him in earnest.  
Loki eyed the woman and then the boy in his grip. He let him down, a little more gently this time, and pulled his hands up tight against his sides, as if ready to defend himself, much like a cat backed into the corner.  
"I do not require your currency...or your boy..."  
She did not respond but let the toddler run to her and lifted him into her arms, holding him tightly against herself. She closed her eyes secondarily, thanking God for his safety, and then turned back to the man, who she decided for the moment is non-hostile.  
"Is there...anything you DO require?" she asks, balancing Tony on her hip as his little hands cling to her jacket.  
Loki watched the scene before him and suddenly ached for the presence of his son...he would cling to him as tightly as this woman did to the boy and never let him go again. Ignoring the stinging sensations running up and down his back, he opted to shorten his visit and forego the basin and water. He needed to find his son.  
"A...warm cloak."  
He would continue his search with the sullied armor, but at least he could be a bit warmer. His luminscent eyes fell to the young boy whose dark eyes were wide and anxious.  
Suddenly, he was vaguely aware of the worry that flitted across his own face at the thought of the same expression on Fenrirs features.  
The woman set the little boy on his feet, muttering a very firm 'Stay put' to him.'  
She then began to make her way cautiously across the room towards where Loki stood, his expression a mixture of emotions, but discomfort being the dominant.  
She held his eyes the entire time trying to project harmlessness and helpfulness.  
"Is that all? You have a place to stay?"  
Loki backed away slightly, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed tightly.  
"I am not here to "stay". I require only what I have specified." he hissed.  
He felt ridiculous, acting like a trapped animal. But he did not know how to approach this very novel situation. He realized, with a strike of embarrassment, that he had backed himself up against the counter. He grimaced at the feel of it touching at the wounds in his back.  
"I have not much time." his voice wavered far more than he would have liked. The woman continued to treat him like a frightened animal.  
"Are you looking for someone?"  
He inwardly cursed at the trembling in his voice as he responded, his hands gripping the counter with such force that it began to crack.  
"My...pup."  
The older woman eyed him with a little more intuitiveness than she should rightfully posses for having just met him only moments ago.  
"I see. Well night is coming...whatever you're searching for, you may have better luck in the morning. Can I take you back to the place you're staying?" she asked, surveying him knowingly.  
The idea is desired. The chance for rest, and warmth, and healing sounds ideal but he will not risk that now. He released his death grip from the counter and moved forward a bit, edging away from Isabel, closer and closer to the kitchen entrance.  
"The night will not hinder me. I must find him." his tone was clipped, but not nearly as venomous as before.  
He moved past Tony, eyeing the little boy softly as a chill starts up his spine. Those eyes were brilliant.  
Startlingly so.  
He stopped at the alcove of the kitchen entrance, not looking back at the two humans.  
"If you would not assist me I will move on."  
Tony stared back at him, his eyes wide and curious. The man had made him angry at first, then scared. Now he didn't know what to think of him. He had some bad things happening to him. He'd lost his puppy too.  
Isabel moved closer to Loki and extended an arm out to him.  
"We will help you..." she spoke softly, in a voice that reminded Loki of how Frigga once spoke to him.  
His eyes drifted to the setting sun just outside the kitchen window. No one from Asgard would be coming for Fen. His presence on Midgard meant he was as good as dead and therefore no longer a threat to Odin. But Fen was surely frightened...and alone. And Loki hated the idea of it. But, he had no idea where on Midgard he had come to, had nothing but the items Fandral had given him, which were only for the use of spells, and his travel through the Bifrost had exhausted him. His options were heavy and he was not thinking clearly.  
Perhaps the night would be best spent clearing his mind and healing himself. He turned to face them, his eyes a little softer than before.  
"Very well."  
The woman gave him a gentle smile, and gestured to the door. She led him out to her car, not bothering with the mess he'd left behind. Tony gripped his grandmother's hand and shot curious glances over his shoulder up at the god as they began out the door.  
The woman opened the passenger's side door and invited Loki to take a seat. She felt a tugging on her skirt and looked down to see her young grandson staring up at her with pleading eyes.  
"Please, take me with you Grammy?" he begged, the tell tale tremble of fear in his voice.

A sudden image assaulted Loki's senses. In the darkness of his mind, the boy stood, fists balled at his side, but fear written on his face, along with dark bruises and a man towering over him. Loki visibly started at the image and paused, his legs still on the ground outside the car as he sat in its leather seat. He did not think his psionic abilities were present on Midgard. Whatever reasoning for his ability's sudden presence he blurted out-  
"Bring the boy."  
Whatever that image was, he did not want it to come to fruition this night. He could not think of it to see a boy cowering before someone more threatening than he. It was far too familiar. Silence enveloped the three for a moment as the woman surveyed him.  
Loki sighed heavily as she lifted the young boy into the backseat, strapping him into a small car seat. This journey had not begun as he had planned. He could only hope that Fenrir was still alive and that his warrior patiently awaited his return to Asgard.


	2. Handle With Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Tony sees the softer side of Loki and the two discover the similarities they share.

The fall air, that breathtaking wind and all it’s scents of spice and dying life, was trapped outside of the small vehicle. Loki, though a once Prince of Asgard and a knowledgeable traveller to other realms, had yet to experience a car ride. The first few moments of rumbling along the highway were marked by Loki trying desperately not to panic and to uphold his fearsome countenance while he sat beside the older woman. As the darkness gives way to the unfettered moonlight, Loki examines the tree line, reaching out tendrils of his mind, once again feeling about for his sons mind. He was met with nothing but an aching vacancy. 

“Are you gonna be sleeping in my room?” 

The voice from the back seat pipes up indignantly, a small nose crinkling at the prospect.

Loki had barely heard the voice but the last few words hummed in his ears. He replied in a distant voice as he watched them come upon the horizon, “I do not believe so.”

What if he is already dead? What if he’d fallen to a place where the Midgardians would kill him outright? Would he be too panicked to shift into his Aesir form?

He banished the horrific thought from his head and squirmed about in his seat, attempting to unstick the cloth of his armor from his skin. The blood beneath it was sticky and uncomfortable and he wondered idly if he would ever get a chance to clean himself. Another row of trees split the moonlight and Loki turned to Isabel.

“Where is this place?”

Isabel raised dark brows, as if sensing that something was somewhat off with her carpool guest. “You mean where is my home?” she prodded further.

Loki shook his head, effulgent green eyes beginning to dim slightly. “No. I mean to say what..” They did not call them realms did they? What were they called, then? “What is this place called? This area of land. Where are we? What is it called?”

Perhaps his questions had become more frantic as he spoke, and perhaps his Solvertongue had dulled due to panic. Whatever it was, his elegant words had fallen by the wayside and he now spoke with a more common tongue. 

Isabel looked upon the man with eyes far too wise for what she was. “We’re presently in Long Island, New York. How did you end up here?” She paused, her eyes roaming the finely fitted and ornate armor that adorned the pale man. “Where did you say you were from?”

Loki blinked once, then a second time, and finally a third. He had absolutely nothing to say to that. So he settled with, “Not here.” And after a few moments of thoughtful silence he continued, “As I have stated, I came here as part of my search.” With that, he was silent, his eyes searching the tree line once more.

“And your pup, what does he look like?”

Loki’s eyes suddenly betrayed the fear that wrapped around his heart.  
His words came in a rather fast tumble from his thin lips, “Very large, a dark hue of auburn with bits of silver and the coldest of blue eyes.” He willed his lips to stop trembling as he spoke but it was more of an effort than he’d expected.

 

Isabel kept her silence as she pulled into the long driveway that was shrouded by a thick gathering of trees and pulls the car to a stop before a quaint little house. While her son, Howard, had amassed great wealth with his genius, she took no part in it. He’d insisted on purchasing her a lavish home, complete with butlers and maids but Isabel had denied the gesture, saying that those types of things would simply he a hindrance to her lifestyle.

Once the car was parked, she stepped out and began to unbuckle the little one from his car seat. The moment the snaps and buckles are undone, little Tony scampers to the front porch and waits at the door for Isabel to come with the keys in the childish delusion that that will somehow get him into the house sooner. Tony observed the strange man through dark eyes and long lashes as he and his grandmother made their way up the walk. Loki touted the pack he’d brought with him on his arm, no longer able to have it on his back for fear of further sticking the cloth of his armor to himself. He suppressed a chuckle when Tony bounded past. He was certainly an excitable thing. When he reached the porch, Loki gave a final sweep of the area with hopeful jade only to be disappointed once more. 

Isabel had observed all of Loki’s reactions since she’d first laid eyes on him. When she had walked through the door and seen the man with her grandson, after the initial fear and relief that followed when he’d let Anthony go, came a sharp realization. There was something unspoken from him that had reached out to her. Something that overlapped the unfamiliar rift between strangers and conveyed everything she needed to know. Though the man had appeared irrational and violent, Anthony was never truly in any danger from the man.

She ushered Loki into her unconventional living room and invited him to take a seat on the plush and comfortable looking couch. 

“I just need to put Anthony to bed. Would you like something to drink while you’re waiting?”

Loki was not listening. 

The home was absolutely full of papers stacked atop one another and lining the walls. Scholarly publications and certificates of education lined the walls.

Masters Degree in Norse Mythology, Manhattan University.

PhD. in Mythology, Boston University.

Ph.D in History, Specification- The Viking Age.

Hundreds of pieces of artwork covered the wallpaper and made the home appear as one vast tribute to the gods that Loki had shared his upbringing with. He is taken aback by the beautiful depictions of his children, his female form, his brothers..  
It was magnificent. His eyes landed hard on the image of Fenrir and the pack he’d slung about his arm fell to the floor. He did not speak but stood silently, and stared. Finally, he forced his mouth to form words. 

“Of course. No, I am in need of nothing.”

He turned to the boy standing by the stairs once more. “It was nice to meet you, Anthony.”

The little boy scowled at him, his sharp, lively, dark eyes clearly trying to process whether the statement was made with sarcasm. “My name is Tony. They called me Anthony when I was a baby.” 

Loki gave him a very soft, very paternal smile. “Anthony is your proper name. It makes you sound like a king.” The god went back to observing the writings and artwork.

Tony looked taken aback by the words and continued to stare at the man even as he had turned away to observe his grandmother’s work. The man had been so angry at him only a little while ago and now he tells Tony that his name sounded like a king’s?

Tony was still trying to understand this sudden change when he felt Isabel take him by the hand.

“Come on, Anthy. It’s time for bed.”

Tony tugged back his hand and balled little fists at his side. “No! Please Grammy? I’m not even tired. I wanna stay up!”

“Anthony…” she began in a warning tone.

“I promise I’ll be quiet! I’ll watch a movie in the TV room and I won’t bother you and the weird man-“

Isabel’s face turned stern at that, “Anthony, that is rude and I will not hear you say such a thing again.” She chided.

“But look at his costume! He thinks he’s from Mortal Kombat or something..”

“Anthony Edward Stark!” She took a threatening step forward to which he automatically backed away. “Unless you want to take a trip over my knee, you will do as I say.” Tony gave a bit of a laugh at the threat but when Isabel advanced on him, he backed up quickly, running into Loki in the process.

Loki pitched forward a bit, unsteady on his feet, and nearly falls into the frame laden wall he’d been staring at. He turned slowly, eyeing Tony. For a moment, he was unsure what his face indicated his next action would be. He brushed a lithe hand down his long, leather coat and glanced back down at the boy. 

“You would do well to listen to her…”

Before Tony could open his mouth to respond, he was scooped up by Isabel and carried bodily up the stairs. His protests and snarls and hisses were heard the entire way up.

Ten minutes later, Isabel returned to the living room and stood next to the god still observing her work.

“Pardon him. I don't know what has gotten into him today, but, he’s a good boy.”

Loki gave a slight nod in her direction and replied in earnest, “Of course he is. Did you do all of this?” He gestured to the multitudes of drawing and articles that lined the walls. “They are quite good.”

Isabel gave a nod and warm smile, not concealing her excitement in the least. “Sure did. My life’s work. And these don’t even scratch the surface.”

 

She glanced over to him with a gentle smile and suddenly, the knowingness, the intuition that had been behind her eyes the whole time came to a verbal head. “So after you get some rest, what is your plan on going about this search for Fenrir?”

 

Loki spun around to face her and pegged her with frightening eyes full of power and fear alike.  
“How do you know why I am here?” he spoke in a low and deadly voice but made no move to threaten her. 

He could sense she was not being hostile nor did she have Fenrir. She simply knew who he was and why he was there. The only question was, how?

 

Isabel retained her graceful calm at the sudden outburst and replied, “I don't know why you are here. I know nothing of how you ended up in Long Island, Loki. I don't eve know how I know exactly who you are, but I am at your service.” 

She gave a graceful, respectful, dip of her head. For some reason her acknowledgment comforted Loki. He did not have many allies, though he was a prince of Asgard. Truly, there were few who respected him, save for those who feared him. He sighed heavily, and stepped forward a bit, coming further into the warmth of the lamp light. 

“I came for my son. He is somewhere on Midgard, though I know not where.”

He glanced about the room and, with a bit of resignation, made a request. “I would require a basin and water, Lady..Stark, is it?”

Isabel disappeared into the kitchen and in a matter of minutes returns with a glass bowl filled with water. The warm smile returned as she humbly glanced aside, “It's Isabel, dear.”

Loki nodded and tested the name on his tongue, “Isa..Isabel.”

He accepted the basin and set it onto the coffee table next to a stack of books about Ragnarok. Dropping to his knees, he removed the first layer of his garments, the wintery green cloak draped in dark leather, and folded it into a neat square, placing it next to the basin. His eyes did not leave Isabel as he removed it. “Tell me, how have you come to know of these things?”

Isabel didn't answer him. Her eyes had gone wide at the sight of the blood stained cloak and the ruined flesh beneath his tunic. 

“Oh my gods! What happened to you?”

An uncharacteristic softness crossed his sharp features. “Apparently, I am insolent and a disappointment of a son with far too much upon my Silvertongue.” His voice retained an air of pride though he was speaking of a rather humbling experience.  
He removed the green tunic and folded it atop the cloak. The skin beneath was an ethereal pale, very unnatural and unearthly in it’s hue. A small needle and thread materialized in his hands and he dipped it into the water, threading it while still wet, with perfect precision. “The Allfather foolishly listened to the oracles and their predictions for my wolf. They meant to see him bound and kept beneath the lands.”

 

With deft hands, he reached behind his back and began to thread through the ripped skin. As though it was something he had done before and such a skill had become nothing more than a practiced art.

Isabel placed a gentle hand over his and speaks softly, “Here. Allow me.”

She blushed under his inquisitive emerald gaze as she surveyed his shirtless form. He was much more beautiful than she could have ever imagined. “I was a nurse in World War 2.” She explained as she continued to thread through his skin.

Loki tipped his head to the side, his raven locks spilling long over his shoulder as he did. “And yet, you have filled your time with gods you know nothing of, or-“ He gave another glance about the room. “-well, not quite nothing.” 

He paused and glanced at the arches that were at the entrance of the living room. He could sense a presence just beyond them. “What is it of us that besotted you so?” he asked. 

As he spoke, his hands had found the pack he’d come with and he rummaged about in it while his lacerated flesh was being sewn. He lifted a small stone bowl from the pack with a note fastened inside it, written entirely in the runic language. Loki’s eyes widened. Fandral.  
What had he sent with Loki? He surveyed the writing, his eyes betraying nothing.

 

Isabel shrugged and responded, “It might seem off, but I actually have no reason as to how I came to find what Midgardians call ‘Norse Mythology’ so fascinating. But you can be assured that I’ve spent almost literally my whole life on research and uh…other related hobbies.” 

 

She glanced around the room at the papers surrounding them on all sides. “In fact, you aren't the first from Asgard to have paid me a visit.”

The presence behind the door shifted a bit.

Tony stood behind the wall, just at the bottom of the stairs, clutching his Captain America blanket tightly. He knew he shouldn't be listening to his Grandma, but he couldn't help it! This man was right off of a TV show and he had to know more.

Loki raised a dark eyebrow at Isabel’s response. Not the first? He set the note aside and began to run his hands along the rune covered bowl, which in turn, began to hum a bit. A green glow sat within it, like a contained mist that held immeasurable wonders just beyond it’s light. “You have been visited by others?”  
His curiosity had been far too peaked for him to ignore it any longer.

Isabel smiled fondly at the memory and spoke in a tone that was heavy with nostalgia, “Ah yes. My first introduction to your world and those in it was by one of the warriors three. Fandral.” Her smile deepened and a blush began to spread its way across her beautifully sculpted cheekbones. Though Isabel Stark had begun to age, her features had remained as timeless as ever. Her face was strong and resilient with sharp, elegant angles that had retained their beauty over time. “I was younger then, in my thirties.” The blush had returned. 

Loki started at the mention of the name. His heart began to beat quickly in his chest as he spoke, “Ah. He is quite the charmer is he not?” Loki clasped the note tightly, his heart continuing to race with his breath. “He has spoken often of his journeys to Midgard. He was the one who set me free when the Allfather imprisoned me.”

Isabel nodded, unsurprised, and finished up her work, dabbing at the excess blood with a warm cloth and finally collected the basin. She brushed a reassuring hand across Loki’s shoulder as she walked past him out to the kitchen to dispose of the basin. 

All of a sudden, a little dark head peaked around the edge of the wall. Deep brown eyes met emerald and the head hastily disappeared, once more out of sight. 

A smirk played on his lips and he stopped his work with the bowl. His gaze fell to the note, which he opened and began to read, all while glancing up occasionally to catch eyes of chocolate brown watching from a distance. 

_'Liesmith, if you read these words now it is likely that Odin has discovered that you are freed. They will come to me for answers, and I will give them. No longer will my heart remain silent. I will wait for you in Valhalla, my love.  
Your Warrior.' ___

Loki’s eyes widened and abruptly the mist that had gathered in the bowl was snuffed out. He hid his emotions well, stilling his hands only for a moment to gather his composure, before returning to the languid movements soon after.

He is not alone. 

The toddler has come out of hiding. Tony, not timidly but with caution, curiously made his way over to where Loki was seated. He stopped just short of two feet away, no doubt playing a game of ‘how close can I get to a sleeping bear’ in his young mind. He looked up to the god and met his gaze boldly.

Loki slowly raised an elegant brow. He reached a slender hand into the bowl, tapping it a few times, until water appeared within it. It evaporated into smoke and the god produced a small purple cube. He lifted it into the palm of his hand and reached the offering towards Tony. Tony, despite his wariness, stares at the cube with awe and took a few steps forward with eyes ever wide. He extended his small hand.

Loki plopped the cube into Tony’s hand and eyed the boy. “A confection. On my honor.”

 

He pulled his hand back and went through the same gestures, producing an identical cube. He placed it between thin lips, a little smirk curling them upward while the candy was still in his mouth. As he swallowed the thing, he kept his eyes on Tony, waiting for a reaction. Tony’s eyes went terribly wide and he eyed the little cube trepidatiously as if it might turn into a cobra at any second. He pursed his little lips together, afraid to come across as cowardly, and plopped the thing into his mouth. His eyes brighten instantly with delight as the flavor explodes inside his mouth as he chewed and swallowed. He moved closer to Loki placing both hands on the gods lap as he stared up at him expectantly. 

Loki smirked. The boy was smart, but still a boy and still somewhat naïve. He was a little thankful for that. He met the boys gaze and stuck out his tongue. It was bright, iridescent green. 

A squeal of laughter escaped Tony’s lips and he clapped his hands together, regretting his actions almost immediately when his glance shot nervously towards the kitchen. Surely Grandma Stark had heard that. When he heard the approaching footsteps, he seized his blanket and took off like a bat out of hell across the living room and up the stairs. 

The first pleasant sound since his arrival on Midagrd leaves Loki’s lips. A genuine laugh. He slowly gathered the bowl back into the pack, a smile on his lips all the while. He ran a hand along the paper of the note, knowing that it had once touched Fandral’s sun kissed skin, and slid it back into the pack as well. “You were right, Isabel. He is a good child.”

A frown creased Isabel’s brow. “Blood hell, was he out of his bed?”

Loki smiled and raised an elegant hand to wave her off. “Indeed. But it is not everyday that the god of chaos sits in your home.” He stood slowly, stretching out his long limbs, and felt the handiwork on his back. “Your assistance is very much appreciated, Lady Stark.” He leaned forward, taking her hand in his, and brought it up to his Liesmith lips.

 

Isabel giggled, blushing like a woman half her age. “It was my honour.” She glanced at the stairwell, the trace of a frown remaining on her face as if she considered going up and having words with her grandson. The expression faded momentarily as a smile lifted her lips and she shook her head, softly. “I’m never going to be able to properly discipline that boy.” The trace of a frown turns her expression serious and a little sad. “I could never touch him. Even if it wasn’t meant in harm. His father…” she sighed heavily and straightened the rest of the contents on the coffee table. The gracious smile reappeared on her face but not without a bit of effort. “So, sweet prince,” she gave a bit of a teasing wink at that. “Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?”

 

Loki narrowed his eyes. So, his psionic abilities had been accurate. And the boy’s father had been the man towering above him, the cause of his fear and the dark bruises that had lined his cheeks. “No. I thank you. So, then, Midgard and Asgard are not all that different..” There was something that his him wanting to spark the magick back between his hands, something that made him want to meet the boy’s father on a battle plain in Asgard and he had only known the boy for less than a day.

 

Isabel nodded. “I know what you mean..more than you know.” A moment of pensive silence passed between the two, then Isabel rose to her feet. “Well, if w are going to look for Fenrir, we should get an early start. I’ll show you where you are staying.”

With a grin, Isabel led him upstairs. At the mention of his son, Loki blinked a few times, still becoming familiar with the idea that a Midgardian should be knowledgeable of Fenrir and, secondly, willing to help him find the boy. He followed Isabel up the stairs, fully expecting to see a young boy awaiting them at the top. 

There was, however, no trace of young Anthony Stark. He seemed to know better than to be in plain sight when his grandmother came up the stairs. Isabel led him to the far end of the hallway and opened the door to a fair sized bedroom.

“It’s a far cry from what you probably have on Asgard, but it’ll serve it’s purpose. Plus..” she smiled, cheekily. “That's a waterbed.” 

She pointed to the lumpy mattress. Stepping into the room, she turned on the lamp at the bedside table giving the room a dim, comforting glow. “Make yourself at home.”

 

Loki looked inquisitively at the bed before, carefully, sitting upon it. Only to promptly have his grace stolen from him as he flopped down onto the floor. He stood, abruptly, crimson seeping into his pale, thin cheeks. “Well..May I perchance view Anthony’s chamber?”  
Isabel bit back a chuckle. “Of course.”

The room is littered with various electronics and toys. There is a half finished circuit board lying unattended upon the floor and little prop mechanical jets hanging overhead, all very unusual looking and very obviously home made. At the far end of the room sat a bunk bed containing a small boy doing quite a convincing job of fake sleeping. Isabel sighed and smiled despite herself. “You can stop pretending to be asleep, Anthony. I know you are not.” 

 

Immediately, his head shot up and he turned around to eye them excitedly. When Loki met his eyes once more, they lit instantly. He strode up to the bed, crossing in the room in three easy steps. He eyed the bunk bed and pointed at the bottom emphatically. “I shall have this one.” He stated, promptly. 

Isabel raised an eyebrow a bewildered expression crossing her face. “Er….are you sure?”

Loki nodded his head, dark hair falling in waves past his shoulders. He moved to sit on the bottom bunk and, when he was not tossed from it as before, he seemed pleased. “Yes. This will do.”

“Well, then, I will leave you boys alone.” Isabel gave Tony a soft kiss on the cheek and turned to leave the room with a final parting smile.  
Loki watched her go with a sense of wonderment. He had never met a woman quite like Isabel Stark. She was rather fascinating, indeed. Slowly, he let heavy lids fall over forest green eyes.

As soon as he his own dark lashes brushed against his cheek, he heard the pattering of little feet as they hit the floor and scampered over to the other side of the room. There is the sound of little hands rummaging about and then silence. Tony lifted the basin from Loki’s bag and set it onto the floor as gently and quietly as he could, all while shooting glances over to what he thought was the sleeping man. He ran tiny hands along the rim as he’d seen Loki do earlier hoping that one of those magickal candies would appear again. 

Loki gave a low chuckle as he slowly sat up. It appeared as though sharing a room with Anthony would mean he would not be getting much sleep. 

“Would you like more?” he asked in a soft, sing song whisper. 

Tony started at the sound of his voice and leapt to his feet trying desperately to appear innocent. Quickly realizing the façade was up, he turned around with a bit of a half smile and nodded sheepishly at Loki. 

Loki readily obliged, carrying the bowl back to the bed with Tony on his heels. Performing the same actions as before with the bowl, he produced three tiny cubes from the stone dish. Tony scooped them all up and prepared to stuff the lot of them into his little mouth. He paused, momentarily, and eyed Loki. He slowly extended a hand offering one to him, a questioning look on his face. Loki barked out a laugh and closed Tony’s fist around the cubes, his hand almost wrapping entirely around Tony’s. “You are an interesting boy, Anthony.”  
He laid back onto the bed and stretched his long limbs over the frame, the bed utterly dwarfed by him. His gaze slid, slowly, back to Tony. 

“What d’oo mean in’westing?” Tony spoke through a mouthful of Asgardian sweets with the trace of a frown on his face, wondering whether or no he should be insulted. He hopped up onto the bed beside Loki and crossed his feety pajama clad legs. Loki could not help but smile. 

“What I mean is that you are both greedy and thoughtful. And rash, albeit well-versed in thinking with a thoroughness.” Loki gave a little yawn as he met the boys eyes once more.  
“You are a great many things. All of them, in one way or another, conflicting.”

Tony scrunched up his nose and decided that Loki’s words weren’t exactly insulting. He swallowed the mouthful of magickal candy and slid closer to Loki. “So what are you? Some sort of magician, Hoodini?”

“In a way, I am exactly that.” He glanced at Tony. The boys eyes were brilliant, almost a little too brilliant. He turned onto his side to study the boy a little closer. He had the ghosts of bruises along his tiny throat. There was a bit of a dark patch around his left eye, what Loki took to be a fading black eye. Without thinking, he reached out to brush the loose hairs from Tony’s face to get a closer look. 

Tony turned his head away, sharply, not wanting to be surveyed so closely. 

Loki pulled his hand back, quickly. Yet, he pried further, “You have a very lovely elder mother, Anthony. Is the entire House Stark all as kind?”

Tony shook his head and kept is eyes on his small fists that were now twisting and curling into the sheets. “No. My Grandma is the only one who loves me.” He suddenly looked up at Loki. “I’m sorry that I hit you with my bat!”

Loki smirked, genuinely amused at the sudden change in topics. Somewhat unfocused, the boy was.  
“It is forgiven. I apologize for throwing you down that corridor.”

“It’s okay,” the boy said softly. “I’ve been thrown down that hallway before.”  
He glanced up at Loki, studying his face even though the only light in the room was a small night light near the door and the soft green glow from the basin the Loki’s hands. “You were hurt. I heard Grandma say your dad did it to you.”

 

Loki’s eyes widened just a bit, and he nodded. “Yes. You heard correctly.” Loki lit the basin further, just enough that he could see the glow reflected in Tony’s eyes. “I said some rather vile things to him.”

Tony giggled a little as he replied, “Did you call him bad words?”

Loki gave a chuckle and shook his ebony topped head. “Not exactly. I questioned his honor and how fit he was to be a king.” The corners of Loki’s mouth curled up into a vicious grin. “He did not much like that.”

Tony looked up at him for a while, as if still trying to figure something out. “Well, whatever you said to him he deserved it.” Tony glanced away a bit sadly and reached for a stuffed animal by the pillow Loki had claimed as his own. “He shouldn't have taken your puppy. No one deserves to have their puppy taken away.”

Tears began to fall in a steady stream from his eyes at the naïve declaration that struck him so deeply. “You are right, Anthony. No one deserves that.” He cleared his throat and wiped the back of his hand across his cheeks. “I am sorry about what happened to your Loki.”

Tony seemed terribly alarmed at Loki’s distress and quickly hopped off the bed, pattering over to the other side of the room. He stopped by his toy box and began hurling things from the bin in a manic search for something. Finally, he retrieved what he’d been searching for. He crossed the room again and climbed back up onto the bed. Looking up at Loki, he placed a different stuffed animal in his lap. This one was in the form of a little brown puppy, with droopy eyes, and ears that were worn with the evident love of a child. “You can sleep with him tonight, or, just until we find yours again.”

 

Loki caught his shaking breaths and managed out a wavering, “Th-thank you.” He held the dog close, not meeting the boys eyes. The god of chaos was reduced to a father in the pit of despair, and yet, this little one had brought him more comfort than all of Asgard had ever given him. He made a rash decision on the spot. 

“Tell me all about your Loki. Tell me all about him.”

Tony began to divulge the god with tales of Loki the dog and all the wonderful times they’d shared, but soon enough the stories become punctuated by small yawns as Tony’s lids begin to fall over those large brown eyes, and his head started to droop. Loki nestled the little body in beside his own, separated by the droopy eyed stuffed dog, and listened intently to the boy until silence overtook him. In the darkness and the calm the god of chaos drifted into a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated! Glad there are some people liking it so far :)  
> There will be another chapter with little Tony and then we will be moving on to some current Tony goodness!


	3. Of Fate

In the darkness and the stillness he could smell the wretched stench of blood and feel cold claws wrap around his very soul. There was death here. The body in his arms was cold. But those eyes, those gods be damned eyes, were still open, still staring into his with silent but desperate pleas. Eyes of stunning pale emerald had lost their light.

Fandral lay in his arms and Loki held the man tightly to his chest and screamed his protests to the darkness. To anything that could listen to his epitaph of wails and broken sobs. The blood that stained the ground around them was the deepest of crimson, near black.

This was his fault, he had let Fandral be taken and punished for his escape.  
The beautiful pale green that stared back at him slowly began to disappear behind eyelids crowned with beautiful lashes.

Loki woke with a start, the sweat drenching him, causing the light tunic he wore to stick to his skin. He sat up abruptly, completely forgetting his whereabouts, and promptly slammed his head on the overhang of the top bunk. Instantly, he remembered exactly where he was and why the dream had been so significant.

He carefully stood, pulling a worn body from the bed and grabbed his satchel before he stepped from the room, gently closing the door behind him. Tony’s soft breaths could still be heard, as could his occasional shifting in his sleep.

The boy had some of the most deplorable sleeping positions that Loki had seen in his terribly long life. With the slightest smile on his face, Loki crept down the stairs and made his way out the front door.

* * *

 

Seconds later he appeared in the yard where he had met Tony only hours ago. He found the freshly overturned mound of earth with ease. There were still boot prints in the earth from where Loki had unwittingly stepped upon the grave. Loki sat atop the mound and reached into his satchel, producing the stone bowl that had so elated the little boy.

Suddenly, a crash from the inside of the home adjacent startled him into a full body shudder and the stone bowl he’d held went sailing to the earth beneath his feet. The crash he’d heard from the house was followed by a mans voice, rough and angry. A woman’s voice came and then another crash. Loki cloaked himself in his magick to hide his presence as the man came barreling out onto the massive porch that splayed out from the house.

  
Howard.

Loki forced himself to remain sitting on the grave as the man took a long drink from the bottle in his hands and punctuated the silence by hurling it across the yard when he had finished off it’s contents. The man had bits and pieces of little Tony embedded in him, Loki could see that. The dark eyes that glinted whenever they caught the light, the mussed dark hair, and the fire that burned through the air and intoxicated Loki instantly.

Oh, certainly this was Howard.

The man on the porch looked across the expanse with an expression of deadly calm before turning on his heel and heading back inside the mansion. Loki continued with his process, his hands moving fluidly and gracefully as he spoke ancient, foreign words into the night air. The earth began to shift beneath him and when he laid his hands upon the wet ground he felt a heartbeat pulsing through the dirt. 

It did not take long before the lab had dug himself out of the shallow grave and pushed himself into Loki’s arms. Moments passed once more, and the two were sitting on Isabel’s porch.

Loki began to stroke the dogs head gently while reaching into the satchel once more, pulling out a handful along with that familiar bowl. After a few soft words, the sage began to flicker into with an earthy smell accompanying it. The dog gave a great yawn and laid down, resting his head in Loki’s lap. The porch lights spark to life, cutting through the darkness and a tired eyed, confused looking Isabel opens the front door.

  
“Loki, what is it-“

  
The residual sleepiness in her eyes dissipated instantly when she saw the dog resting in Loki’s lap. Her eyes welled and instead of successfully stemming the flow, the woman began to weep into her hands. Loki kept his eyes on the soft head resting peacefully beneath his touch as he replied, “I thought he finally deserved some good in his life…”

  
Loki let the sage burn out, the smoke drifting about him lightly. The woman beside him continued to weep, but opened he door to usher Loki inside. She led him to the couch, barely able to contain her sobs as she sat.

Evidently, these were not sudden emotions. There was something deep and haunting behind her eyes when she spoke of Tony and Loki was sure he had broken through to it.

“I try…I try so hard to keep him safe..to keep him from being hurt. I’ve even tried to have him taken out of there, to live with me, but Howard…Howard is the law. He has the police bought..”

The tears were pouring down her cheeks in torrents. “And there is nothing I can do for him. My Anthony…my baby Anthony.”

  
Loki was unsure of what to do. The situation was so new to him, for on Asgard, he would have simply ordered his guards to take Howard and dispose of him. Or perhaps, something far more nefarious that Loki could do on his own. But Midgard was so much more evil. There were rules and laws that could be easily ignored and circumvented, people who were easily bought, and thus, little ones like Anthony continued to suffer.

Unsure of what else to say Loki simply replied, “I know. It will be alright.”

  
The woman tried to quell her tears and spoke in a broken voice, “Thank you…thank you…”

  
Loki was rather taken aback by such a terribly overwhelming reaction. In the now familiar way in which she threw caution to the wind, she wrapped her arms around his thin frame and held him as though he were her entire world in that moment. He remained perfectly still for a moment before lifting his own arms and wrapping her within them, mimicking her actions.

A moment later, a snout nuzzled it’s way in between them as if the distinctly canine Loki demanded to be a part of the affection.

  
“Grammy?” a little voice from the hallway came as a sleepy eyed Tony rounded the corner. “Grammy, whats-“

  
Tony stopped abruptly as his eyes fell on the yellow lab with his head resting in Loki’s lap. His eyes nearly bulged out of his tiny head and he abandons his precious Captain America blanket to the floor before tearing across the living room and wrapping his arms around the dog.

Canine Loki lets the chaos of little Tony’s discovery flourish around him, rather unaware of what was transpiring. Loki stood slowly, clasping his hands behind his back as he surveyed the scene before him. Isabel and Tony were fawning over the newly resurrected lab, and it warmed Loki’s heart. He was happy, contented even, that in some small way he could bring comfort to Tony.

Loki dipped down and grabbed his satchel from beside the couch, then snatched up his cloak that he’d left folded on the coffee table.

  
Suddenly, small arms wrap around his leg and a chubby cheek is pressed against his hip. He glanced down just in time to see terribly wide brown eyes staring up at him.

  
“Please don’t go, Mister.”

  
Something wrenches within Loki’s heart.   
For a moment he was tempted to stay the rest of the night, but he knew that no good could come of such a decision.

There were many things he needed to do before the night was over, one of which was gnawing at him desperately to be completed. Loki pulled Tony into his arms and rested the boy gently on his hip much in the way an experienced mother would.

  
“I must go, Anthony. When I first came here I felt the presence of my pup.” Loki glanced at Isabel briefly as he spoke. “I no longer feel such a thing. He is not close to here..and I need to find him quickly.”

  
“Then I’ll go with you! I’ll help you find him!” The voice was strained and very insistent and Tony struggled against Loki’s hold so that he could free himself long enough to retrieve his coat and boots.

Loki held him fast and shook his head.

  
“It is far too dark and much to dangerous for you, Anthony. But someday, when you are a warrior, a king in your own right, you will help many others. You will be such a brave warrior!” Loki exclaimed with a smile directed at the pouting boy in his arms.

“But for now, you must do your best to listen to your elder mother.” Loki set the boy back on his feet and gave his nose a gentle tap. “This is how you may help for the time being.”

  
Tony scowled up at him, a decidedly angry expression on his face, but his dark eyes were brimming with unshed tears. “I’m brave. I could go with you now.”

  
If Loki’s heart had wrenched before it was ripped nearly in twain now. In a way, Tony reminded him so much of Fenrir when he was young, so very persistent and ever the fighter.

  
“I am so sorry, my little king, but no. Someday I will return to visit you, Isabel, and your pup. But for now I must go.”  
Tony gripped the gods pant leg with as much strength as the boy could muster.

Large tears began to fall from dark eyes as sobs fell from Tony. He had only known the ‘magic man’ for a short time but already he felt like the man was his greatest protector. Like there was finally someone else in the world who loved him.

  
Loki sent a pleading look in Isabel’s direction as he wrapped long arms around the boy clamped tightly against his leg. He truly wanted to stay and wanted nothing more than to protect both Isabel and Anthony.

  
“I will always be watching over you, Anthony.”

Loki spoke it as though it were an oath. Maybe it was, he was not entirely sure. His heart was beating too fast and his hands were slick with sweat. It was an oath, it _was._ He would come back.

  
Tony cried helplessly as Isabel attempted to pry him out off the god. His wails continued to increase in volume as Loki headed for the door. The god clenched set his jaw and feathered the back of a pale hand over his eyes, catching the few tears that had formed there. 

“I will come back..”

  
Isabel called to him from the living room, barely audible over Tony’s wails, “Thank you my prince, thank you..”

* * *

 

He closed the door behind him and vanished into the cool night air.

  
Seconds later, he arrived beside the dug up mound where the yellow lab once lay. He appeared just as Howard stepped out onto the porch for another drink, dark bruises along his knuckles no doubt formed from the abuse he’d dealt Tony’s mother.

When he saw Loki appear, he dropped the glass in his hand and it shattered against the stone porch. Loki strode across the yard in four easy steps and snatched the man by his throat, pinning him back against one of the large bay windows. His words were full of malice and wrath, but he made no mention of Anthony, lest it worsen the situation.

  
“Howard Stark, when it happens, and be sure that it shall, it will appear to happen of natural, tragic cause. The world will write it off as ill fated.”

  
He leaned in close, his glowing eyes meeting darker ones that were eerily similar to Tony’s.

  
“But know that I am fate, know that it is my hand that guides death so swiftly to you.” He dropped Howard to the ground, crushing one trembling hand beneath his boot. “Know that when your death comes, mine shall be the last face you see.”

  
The god vanished from the spot, leaving a thoroughly terrified and confused Howard Stark.

* * *

Loki was true to his word. He did return to Anthony and Isabel for two years longer, as he remained on Midgard searching for Fenrir. In that time, the three grew as more of a family than Loki had ever known.

Being the orphaned son of King Laufey and nothing more than a debt repaid by Odin, he had little concept of family. When Odin had killed his father in battle and returned him to Asgard as a stolen tribute to his own kindness Loki had vowed to never call him father. Nor would he call Thor or Balder his brothers, nor Frigga his mother.

He was born a Jotunn and a Jotunn he would always be, regardless of the mask of an Aesir he wore. 

But with Isabel and Anthony, he felt as though he need never return to Asgard. The only thing that weighed heavy upon his heart was the fate of his lover.

He had tried desperately to reach his mind through the realms to find Fandral but to no avail. When Balder brought word of Fandral, Loki returned to Asgard with haste, vowing to return once more.

This time, when he left, the tears that were shed were not in vain. Tony pleaded with him in the same fashion, clinging to him, a head pressed against his waist now (as he had grown taller in those two years) and words begging for him to stay.

* * *

 

When Anthony was 19 years of age, after he had been dealt years of his fathers bruising hands, the curse took. Loki’s curse finally took, and Howard Stark was killed in a tragic, ill-fated accident. Unfortunately, Tony’s mother joined him in death a few months later at her own hand.

At 21, Tony took over his fathers company, nearly running it and himself into the ground with the fast pace of his lifestyle. He knew it was empty. He knew it was because he was missing something that he’d only had for a short while. But he kept going, kept pushing for it because maybe there was something out there to fill the void.

  
And then.

Then life had gotten altogether too fast. The Ten Rings, the glowing hunk of metal in his chest that kept him alive, and the nights he spent in that god damned cave secretly hoping that the man who’d protected him as a child could do the same for him as a man.  
But he never came and, as he had learned to do, Tony took care of himself.

  
He became a hero. A ‘king in his own right’.

He joined S.H.I.E.L.D’s “Avengers” initiative, much to his own chagrin, and fought against the evil that had once threatened to quell his own life. 

Eventually, the man became nothing but a distant memory of yet another disappointment. 

* * *

 

When Loki had returned to Asgard, the Allfather’s rage had dissipated, and life went about in its usual way. Loki the outcast, Loki Laufeyson, not Odinsson, never Odinsson. He lived like as such and paid no mind to it, his thoughts only on his lover, his son, and the little king from Midgard.

  
Two days after his return, he was brought to Odin’s court and given a bloodied shield and sword. The crest and the colors gave it away instantly. They were Fandral’s.

  
‘Lost in battle’ they’d said.

‘Taken too soon’ they’d said.

But Loki knew it was a lie and he had wept. For days, for months he did not know. His brother had tried to console him to no avail. He simply sat in his chambers, his mind reaching across the void for the little boy he'd met only to find silence.

He could not bare to question why. As the years went on, Loki never forgot the little king he'd met, nor did he forget what Asgard had consigned to do to Fandral. He grew bitter with the passing years and was very rarely seen frequenting the magickal sites that he'd often loved. Thor had tried for all the years to get through to him to no avail.

Finally, after thirty years, Loki vanished without a trace. It had been near two years since that day.

Thor had made allies on Asgard and rarely returned to his home realm now, even as the Allfather grew closer and closer to the Odinsleep.

He had taken up with some gathering of warriors there and was now vowed to protect the realm of humans, rather than his home.   
Things were not well with Asgard.

* * *

 

**Present Day  
** Tony Stark, Genius, Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, beloved by the masses and the darling of the modern world of technological advancement made his way through the corridors of the SHIELD headquarters.

He'd barely recovered from defending Manhattan against yet another round of attacks from Hydra, when he was being summoned as Iron Man to defend the citizens of another realm.

One he hadn't known existed up till a very short time ago when he'd met Thor, god of thunder and one of his fellow Avengers. Thor stood, pacing as he waited for the team to Assemble in the bottom most room of the SHIELD headquarters.

The room that had been reserved for every covert meeting for the team led by Nick Fury. When Balder had told him of Morrigan's crows he barely believed him. It was only the fear in his brother’s eyes that lit the fire in his gut. War was coming to Asgard. War of untold death, destruction, and chaos.

  
As he saw Tony Stark round the corner, despite the dire situation he smiled brightly. “Man of Iron! How good to see you well!”  
Tony quirked his token half smirk and removed his sunglasses before extending one arm out to give Thor a side ways, and rather awkward, hug.

  
“Point Break...how've you been?”

  
The rest of the Avengers began to file in, and Tony acknowledged them with nods or obnoxious comments, whatever he thought would get the best reaction from whoever.

  
He was a little disappointed that he wasn’t late enough to cause a stir but, hey, he’d just try better next time. The group was seated around the conference table when Nick Fury strode in in all his belligerent charisma.

  
“As Thor may already have informed you, the realm of Asgard is under siege. Since he has aided us in the defense of our realm, I feel like it's only fair that we aid him in the defense of his.”

  
 Tony looked up from his cell (he was in the process texting mildly insulting comments to Steve, who had just recently lost his cell virginity) and up at Fury.

  
“So...what's the plan of attack then? We go to planet Pandora and defend the Navi against the Ewoks and are declared not only gods among men, but gods among gods?”

  
Thor gave a bit of a chuckle, and Fury eyed him with a healthy mixture of annoyance and amusement.

  
“That's the plan, Stark. Suit up, you all leave within the hour.”

 

* * *

 

The wind whipped about the mountain and Loki pulled the fur closer to himself and huddled in the depth of the cave that was carved on the mountains face. The Morrigan had left the morning before and had not yet returned. So he waited. Finally the cries of her crows heralded the apparition of the woman dressed in black, her hair as dark as her cloak and her eyes of the same shade.  Loki stood as she came forward, her eyes hooded.

  
“It is done, Liesmith. I have seen the lands of Asgard and its decadence. War will be a good reminder for the Aesir that happiness does not come without cost.”

  
She observed him with a look of lust.  
“Nor do I.”

  
Loki met her with a wicked smile, removing his cloak with slow, languid movements.  
“As I suspected..."

* * *

 

Loki had forgotten the reasoning behind why he had only ever bedded the Morrigan once before, but as he descended the mountain, he remembered much to his displeasure. Lying with the Morrigan was nothing but fighting for the dominant upper hand, an act one could only assume the crone of war would apply to every aspect of her life. He had journey by foot to the depth of Yggdrasil, and it had taken him a good while to achieve this.

He had thought that perhaps his anger, his rage, and his thirst for vengeance would cool it’s fires by the time he had reached the outer realms. He was wrong. And he did not have time to wait that long now. He materialized in his chambers where dust had gathered about the room and as he appeared, it all shifted at once.

Waving his hands to clear himself a visible path through the particles, he ventured into the hallway that was suspiciously empty. Had the

Morrigan begun her red work already?

  
Had war descended so swiftly upon Asgard?

  
He chuckled lowly, and allowed his most resplendent armor to appear on his lithe form. He would see this war and the pathetic efforts to stop it. The blood that was shed this day would be in commemoration of his lover and all would know what justice truly was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey All!   
> So, as you might see in this chapter things skip around alot.   
> I wanted to make sure to stay true to my promise and get us to the bits where Tony and Loki are reunited as adults but didn't want to leave everyone hanging without the bits that happen in between.  
> So as of right now Tony's story from the Iron Man film franchise apply. As for Loki, the comic version of his parentage applies: i.e. Odin took Loki as a young boy from Jotunheim when he killed Laufey. Therefore, Loki and everyone else in Asgard knows of his true identity.
> 
> Also, I dip my hand into a few pies here, so if you spot some mythology that is definitely not Norse, forgive me :D I am taking some creative licenses with mythological origins here.


	4. Satan and St. Paul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note:
> 
> Hey guys! I am so so so sorry for the delay! As some of you may know, this story is based on an RP, all of which was saved. And promptly lost. So my partner and I are having to recall the thing from scratch.  
> Anyways I hope you enjoy and as always, I appreciate any comments or criticisms! And..also...reviews are good. Very good. ;)

 

* * *

Being who he was, not much surprised Tony Stark.

But this was the city of the gods, the city of legends; this was Asgard, and Asgard was something else entirely.

Tony found himself staring at his surroundings like a complete tool, mouth and eyes wide open simply taking in all the splendor of it. The fantasticalness, the decadence of the place made him feel a bit of vertigo, truthfully. As they crossed the Rainbow Bridge, Tony noticed beyond the edge of the celestial city, a black whirlpool was stirring slowly against a bloody sky just above the mountains, churning slowly spreading like a cancer.

'That can't be a good sign.' he thought, sliding the faceplate up to get a better look at the chaos. He wondered if Asgard's enemies were going to follow the seemingly strict storybook routine and descend from the skies, or if they would show up in tanks and fighter jets. After all, he had no concept of the technology of any other planet but his own. Given Thor's outdated dress and speech however, he guessed it would probably be the former. The sun had begun its descent, and was now on it's way sinking down below the solar sea and gradually darkening sky, creating a surreal effect.

Just beyond the group a rider had come to meet them before they could reach the palatial royal grounds. And the rider himself could truly only be described as palatial.

"The Morrigan's armies will be coming in droves...any hour they could be upon us, in an instant. She has no desire to draw things out. It will be swift and bloody, and even more so if we are not prepared. My prince, you must assemble your warriors." Volstagg spoke, his eyes coming to rest on Thor.

Thor nodded and turned to his fellow Avengers, features pulled tight into a stony expression.

"Friends, I thank you for being here when I need you most." His voice was as unyielding as his expression.

Tony puckered his lips, almost in an over exaggerated gesture.

"I'm expecting a full kiss on my mouth, my golden lord..." he delivered the statement with his ever present thick layer of sarcasm. Black Widow smacked him in the arm doing nothing against his armor. Thor's face remained stone, so unlike the amused expression he'd given back in the conference room, and rather turned his eyes beyond Tony towards the blackening abyss in the sky.

"They are coming." Tony turned his gaze to the skies along with rest of the team and promptly lost all of his quips and jabs. Whatever darkness had blotted out the features of what sought to bring Asgard to its knees was now in full, horrific focus. They'd seen monsters. Hell, Tony could count the times on his hands when the newly formed team had come face to face with one of AIM's mutated creations and Tony could vaguely recall the hulking and brooding beasts they'd squared off against recently with the assistance of Xavier's team. So, the big baddies having six limbs and even more eyes? Typical day. But this, this was different.

This was a multitude of fire, ice, and darkness. There were, what could only be, the Jotuns-their great shoulders eclipsing what little sliver was left of the sun and within their massive grips intricate weapons made from something that appeared to be ice but was undoubtedly much more durable. Alongside them walked equally built beings wrapped in searing flames-a creature Thor had _definitely_  yet to mention. They had clearly already breached the cities walls-the gatekeeper of Asgard being no match to stop them-and were tearing the city apart piece by piece. And it had all happened moments before the Avengers had arrived. Whoever this 'Morrigan' bitch was, she was fast, and it was clear she wasn't messing around.

"Avengers- "

Steve never quite made it through the iconic line-hell, the group didn't even make it off the bridge- before one of the creatures had noticed them. What looked like lightning wrapped in flame came tearing out of the sky, headed for them. In an instant, the team scattered.

It took Clint less than thirty seconds to pin point at least some of the vulnerable points the frost giants thick skinned bodies and once off the bridge, he began sending perfectly aimed arrows in nearly every direction, trying to at least thin the ranks a bit. Natasha followed close behind, somewhat under the guise of trying to help take some of the creatures down but more with the intention of watching Clint's back. Tony was glad he'd had the sense to don the suit before taking that littler interstellar trip with Thor, especially now, as he soared over the vast and golden expanse of Asgard.

Tony, due mostly to his show-offish nature, flew into the heart of the action, where the cluster of proverbial flying bad guys were thickest. He collides with bodies, ripping them out of the sky, shooting them down and blasting them back up the crater they'd descended from.

So far he was enjoying himself.

That is until a blow from one of the frost giants hurled him into one of the stone balconies of the palace. The impact causes the stone to detach and crumble to the sea below. Only mid-fall did Tony notice that there had been someone else on the balcony when it had broken off.

He put all his power into the thrusters and tore off after her, snatching her out of the air seconds before she hit the rocky base of the cliff and the stony debris came down on top of her. He flew up to the palace entrance and deposited her lightly onto her feet.

He should not have given himself time to take note of this, but the woman was breathtaking with large green eyes, raven hair and a body that he couldn't begin to try and put into words. He raised the faceplate so he could give her a disarming grin.

"What? Oh no need to thank me...stop...really stop..." he waved an armored hand dismissively.

A sudden thud of another frost giant landing rather violently behind him pulled his mind back into the fray before him.

"Glad we had this little chat." he quipped. Tony soared backwards, giving her a wink before closing the visor of his helmet and spinning around, taking off again head on into the conflict.

* * *

The battle seemed to stretch on for hours. They were definitely gaining the upper hand but not without some losses. Natasha was down and Tony had dragged her unconscious form to safety, out of the midst of the conflict. The Aesir warriors had depleted in number as well but they continued to fight on with a ferocity accompanied by the help of the Midgardian heroes.

They beat the beasts back easily enough, but more just kept emerging from the portal. Tony turned to Thor in the midst of one of the most intense battles he'd ever witnessed,"This little play date with the dark elves and Frosty the 'Roid Rage Snowman is great and all, but if we're going to win this, we're going to have to close that damn hole in the sky! Any suggestions as to how to do that?" he hollered over the clashing of metal and on metal, bone, and ice.

"It is the Morrigan's doing. She is the cause of all this. If you find her and stop her, the portal will close." Thor replied, wrapping the leather coated handle of Mjolnir with a massive fist, preparing to propel himself into the skull of a Frost Giant headed in their direction. In his typical fashion, Tony gave a curt nod and took off like a shot into the night sky, happy for some recon alone time.

The wind whipped past him but inside the suit, he didn't feel it. The battle raged on and, though adrenaline coursed unrelenting through his veins, it all seemed routine. Dare he say, hollow. He'd watched battles come and go with an almost…numbness. He'd spent countless nights with an even less countable number of women and always woke up feeling nothing. Absently, he wondered if like with the cold wind that whipped along the slightly faded red and gold, he couldn't feel anything  _because_  of the suit itself.

His thoughts were cut short as he landed hard in a thick patch of snow. It was clear he had gone far beyond the golden glow of Asgard's herald city and managed to find himself in his version of what Gonzo had called 'Bat Country'. According to what Thor had told him about Jotunheim, it was cold. Like, really fuckin' cold. So, Asgard in comparison, with it's beyond the city winter, wasn't all that frigid. A little weird, given that the herald city seemed to be in an entirely different season akin to fall. But, nothing penetrated the metal plating that encased him, so the cold was fine.

Sometimes, that was a blessing. Sometimes a curse.

He surveys the forest he'd come to a stop before. "J, hook me up with eyes." That damned hole in the sky was starting to blot out the sun-or whatever the hell the thing up in the sky was according to Asgardians-and darkness was encroaching.

Tony continued to trudge on, the helpful night vision coming up as soon as he'd requested it of the AI, but couldn't help but feel that he was not alone in the forest. He scanned the surrounding terrain a number of times but neither he, nor his built-in tracker could pick up on any life.

Until it did in a big fucking way.

They came out of nowhere, which seemed almost impossible given their size.

Two hulking beasts with skin of azure and navy, intricate lines raised along their oddly hued skin. They weren't exactly the monsters Tony had been told about, now that he got a (too) close look.

"Well, jeez, for such big, awkward bastards you've got the spry sneakiness down in spades. Now, shall we settle this like gentlemen?"

The first giant (and it was hard to tell them apart. Did that make him racist?) lifted a great arm and sent ice shooting forth from it. It was meant to wrap the suit in a block of ice and win the battle before it even had a chance to start. It sailed through the air with a whine and just as Tony raised a gauntleted hand, it hit something directly in front of Tony. Like a shield crafted out of something entirely unseen.

The wall of ice shattered before his eyes and tendrils of green danced about the iron suit. In an instant, Tony found himself staring into familiar green eyes from his place within the suit. They were…beautiful. They didn't belong to a face, and he had no idea why he'd seen such an odd sight, but…

When he saw those eyes, his heart nearly thudded to a stop. They were gone as quickly as they appeared and Tony was so dazed that he forgot to dodge an incoming blow from one of the frost giant's large fists.

"Rude." He flatly stated in a monotone that was far too calm considering he was soaring back through the snow, taking out a few trees as he does. Tony righted himself and flew back at them, taking them both of the edge of a nearby cliff. They fell with startling speed and even more startling cries of defeat.

"That'll learn ya..." he muttered as he scanned the area once again for the wisps of emerald, for the familiar eyes, only to be met with a big, fat nothing. He attempted to shake it off for the time being and to continue his trek to...well, he wasn't quite sure where, but he needed to figure out soon.

The problem was, the more Tony continued to walk, the more insistently he felt the presence behind him. Actually, it was more like 'all around him'. But, no matter how many times he surveyed the woods surrounding him seeing nothing, he couldn't shake it. There was something there with him.

It weirded him out at first but somehow he knew that whatever this phantom following through the thick brush was, it didn't mean him any harm. He had no clue how he managed to come to this conclusion, but there it was.

He spun around raising the visor of his helmet to reveal his olive skin to the elements.

"Look, I'm mainly flattered by stalkers, blonde, brunette, Italian, human, ethereal or otherwise but now is really not the best time." he hesitated for a moment, listening for something. Anything. All he heard was ringing silence. His dark eyes narrowed as he searched the darkening forest that surrounded him.

"Show yourself."

It wasn't a command and it didn't come off like one, either. When Tony spoke, his voice was light and almost playful. The entity that seemed to follow him had an air about it that was equally playful. He wracked his brain for the right word to describe it and settled on 'mischievous.'

And then he heard it.

A laugh. Deep, mirthful, and just like he'd described,  _full_  of mischief.

"You are just as demanding as you once were."

Tony halted every step, every tremble, every breath at the sound of that voice.  _That voice._  He knew that voice, but  _why_  did he know that voice so very well? And why did the simple sound of it cause all the hair on the back of his neck to stand on its end?

He didn't have time to figure out the answer. Tony saw her through the trees. Even though he had no idea what this Morrigan broad looked like, he was sure this was her. He raised the visor of his helmet again and gave her his best charming smile. The one that had been responsible for him waking up next to angry reporters, politicians, and supermodels. In the same bed.

"So, you're the one who made all of this possible?" he said conversationally sweeping his hand across all the chaos enshrouding this desolate sector of Asgard.

She smiled low, something unfriendly and rather off-putting.

"In a way. "

She glanced around him, as if she too sensed that other presence circling around him. Her eyes widened momentarily and with what looked like a flustered expression demanded, "Show yourself, Liesmith."

Loki Laufeyson, god of mischief, sky walker, and most notably in his mind ' _magic man',_ dropped the spell and stood towering above Anthony, directly in front of him. He wore Asgardian armor, made of boiled leather and the finest uru metal, hues of silver, gold, and verdant melded as one intimidating piece of clothing. His smile was especially wicked as he met the Morrigan's eyes.

"Holy good shit!" Tony yelped and, in his beyond startled state, lost his footing and he and the suit found their way into the snow. "What in the hell.."

The corners of Lokis lips twitched and he had to physically stop himself from chuckling at the display. It would be rather unwise to laugh while standing in the presence of the Morrigan. He held his staff tightly in his hands as he waited for his little king to right himself.

"Morrigan, I know that it had only just begun..but the war has come upon new things...I believe Asgard has learned their joy comes at a cost by now...perhaps it is time to end the battles?"

Tony was never a man of few words. Not even in the bedroom. In fact, there was that one time with the redhead and the brunette from MIT alum-the ones who ended up working for Google or Apple or whatever-and they had actually gagged him. Not in the good way, in the 'Tony, shut up' way. And then-

Tony had to stop himself from mentally talking his own ear off. The words never travelled out of his mouth, though, because he was still, yes still, stunned silent.

The Morrigan gave a bit of a condescending laugh and with a slight gesture of her fingers, Tony was borne forward, towards the dark witch. The snow piled up beneath his feet and left a path as he was unable to move them on his own volition.

"One does not simply call off a war because the opposition has 'learned their lesson, Liesmith." Her voice was as cold as the air that hit his face while he was drawn to her by that goddamn force he couldn't see. The hell was this, Star Wars? As he was pulled, Tony tried desperately to catch a glimpse of the guy who was defending his honor but only caught the sight of wisps of black beneath a glorious (read melodramatic) helm complete with intimidatingly large horns.

Distractedly, the Morrigan eyed Tony with an unmistakable glint of lust.

"He is a beautiful little thing is he not?"

At that, Tony cocked an eyebrow.

"You know, normally I wouldn't mind being objectified by you, in a different time...place...a lounge, or a blues cafe. Preferably not in the middle of a-"

"Silence, mortal." She clipped, and just like that, Tony's mouth was clamped shut. He couldn't speak. The crazy bitch had taken his voice. The Morrigan turned hooded eyes on Loki, a smirk on her lips and poison in her voice.

"Is he yours, Laufeyson?""

Loki narrowed his eyes as magick crackled about him, his anger suddenly tangible. If the Morrigan would dare harm Anthony, she would spend all eternity regretting her actions.

"If he were, would it be wise to treat him so? Would you not fear for the wrath of the god of chaos?" the god seethed at the witch.

A single strand of magick snapped from his fingers, breaking the spell between Morrigan and Anthony. The human's words would return and he would be free to move about the moment he had gathered his wits about him.

Loki had no qualms with his next reply, as they were words had deigned to speak since the day he'd met his little king.

"And yes, Morrigan, he is."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
